


Banged Up

by mediocre-writing (elleavantemm)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleavantemm/pseuds/mediocre-writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver had been feeling off for weeks. A culmination of symptoms eventually leads him to the doctor who offers a surprising diagnosis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banged Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a writing prompt from a friend over on Tumblr. The prompt was "I'm pregnant." I suppose there are a lot of ways I could have gone with this prompt and this pairing, but this is where my brain went. The title is a euphemism for being pregnant.

Oliver had been feeling off for weeks. While he was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night - Slade’s reminder that the island never really left him was proven on a regular basis - the frequent trips to the bathroom to pee were an unusual if banal alternative to the nightmares that usually drew him from sleep.

Throughout the day found himself in the bathroom hunched over the sink, splashing cool water over his face, or reaching for Diggle’s shoulder, Felicity’s shoulder, one time even Isabel’s shoulder as a wave of nausea washed over him. “Is everything okay?” Felicity inquired, usual note of concern in her voice where Oliver’s well being was concerned.

“I think I’m coming down with the flu or something.”

“You should see a doctor,” Diggle said in his usual even voice, but Oliver could hear the note of concern there as well.

“I’ll get right on that,” Oliver replied. 

Diggle and Felicity shared a look that asked why they even bothered; Diggle rolling his eyes while Felicity sighed. 

On an ever increasing basis Oliver found himself idly touching his chest, ghosting his fingers over his pecs to assess their increasing sensitivity. Even the slightest touch was near painful, which was not conducive to Oliver’s night time activities. It made wearing the Arrow suit uncomfortable and difficult to maneuver in.

Oliver mentioned it in passing to Thea who had laughed, and with a wink and a nudge of her elbow joked, “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

Right. Good one, Speedy.

It wasn’t until Oliver was bested by his own body before he even reached the bad guy one night that he decided he needed to think about his health. After only five city blocks, Oliver was winded and fatigued and his target had long since escaped. Diggle and Felicity were talking frantically in his ear, but all Oliver wanted to do was sit down. He turned the bluetooth device off, took it out of his ear, and sat on the curb. He rubbed a hand carefully across his chest as he caught his breath.

Two days later Oliver met with Dr. Gaymes, the Queen family physician. Dr. Gaymes checked Oliver over from head to toe, checking his blood pressure, heart, ears, throat, temperature. He weighed Oliver, tested his reflexes. Lastly he had Oliver provide a urine sample. “You’ve put on a bit of weight,” Dr. Gaymes reported, “but your vitals seem fine otherwise. I’ll call you in a couple of days with the results of the urinalysis.”

Afterward Oliver met Diggle at the cafe for lunch. Oliver ordered a chocolate milkshake piled high with whipped cream and syrup, a heaping plate of chili cheese fries and a slice of cherry pie. Diggle’s eyebrows were almost to his hairline as he watched Oliver eat, and eat, and eat. 

“What did the doctor have to say?”

Oliver shrugged, and around a mouthful of fries said, “I’m healthy. Put on a bit of weight recently, but that isn’t anything to worry about.”

Diggle glanced over the table at Oliver to assess this apparent weight gain. 

“They’re doing a urinalysis, but I won’t have the results for a couple days.”

Oliver took a long drink from his milkshake, following it with a mouthful of pie. There was almost no break between bites of food. It was both mesmerizing and disgusting to watch. 

“Well, at least we know you aren’t sick.”

Two days later Oliver received a call from Dr. Gaymes’ office asking him to come in to discuss his test results. “Can’t he just tell me over the phone?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen, but we are unable to discuss test results with patients over the phone,” the receptionist said politely.

“Ok. Is there room for me to come in this afternoon?”

“There is some time near the end of business hours. Can you be here for 4:30?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Queen,” Dr. Gaymes greeted as he entered the examination room. “Have a seat, please.” Oliver sat in the free chair rather than on the examination table. “I’m afraid I have some rather troubling news as a result of the urinalysis.”

“Troubling news?”

Dr. Gaymes coughed. “Yes, you see, the test came back with rather high levels of hCG, or Human Chorionic Gonadotropin. In men this hormone in urine is usually cause for concern about cancer, but I feel very strongly that based on your other physical symptoms and the hCG in your urine that you are, ahem... pregnant.”

Silence settled in the small room as Oliver’s brow furrowed together, mulling over the words, making sure he’d hearing them correctly. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He twisted his mouth to one side then the other in thought. After several long moments Oliver said, “I’m sorry, pregnant?”

“I do believe that to be the case,” Dr. Gaymes said, almost gravely, as though telling Oliver he was pregnant was a death sentence.

“I’m sorry, but how is that possible?”

“You’re a medical miracle!” It was meant as a joke, but it was obviously the only explanation the doctor had to offer.

Oliver smoothed his hands over his thighs and rose from his chair. “Well, thanks, Dr. Gaymes.”

“You may, er, want to, uh, schedule an appointment for an ultrasound with my assistant on your way out. Then we’ll know for sure.”

Thankfully scheduling an appointment for an ultrasound did not require Oliver to admit to the young woman behind the reception desk that he might be pregnant. Ultrasounds were used for all kinds of things. She wrote the date and time on the back of a card and slid it across the counter. “Thanks,” Oliver said, tucking it into his wallet and heading toward the elevators.

Down on the street, Oliver pulled his phone from the pocket of his leather jacket and called Diggle. “Are you at home? Can I come by? I’ve got some news.”

Diggle had the door open before Oliver’s hand had even fallen on the door to knock. “You know you don’t need to knock, right?” Diggle said as he moved for Oliver to pass into the apartment. “I mean, you basically live here these days.”

“I talked to Dr. Gaymes,” Oliver said, removing his jacket and hanging it in the closet next to several other items of his own clothing. “You should probably sit down.”

“Do you want something to drink? Beer, maybe?”

Oliver hesitated. “Uh, not right now, thank you. Maybe you should wait before you hear what I have to tell you.”

Diggle sat down hard on the sofa. “You aren’t dying, are you?”

 

“No,” Oliver assured, “I’m not dying.”

“Felicity owes me ten bucks,” Diggle said quietly.

“You guys made a bet... you know what? Not important. Okay.” Oliver took a deep breath, looked Diggle in the face, and took another deep breath. “Okay. Diggle. John. I’m... I’m pregnant.”

Diggle’s eyes widened and he glanced around the room as though some obnoxious television host was going to pop out from around the corner to tell him he was on candid camera or something. Oliver stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a concerned look on his face. 

“Repeat that for me.”

“I’m... pregnant?”

“How the hell is that even possible?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Oliver admitted. He dropped his arms to his sides and took a seat next to Diggle, knocking their knees together. “I have an appointment for an ultrasound next week to see what’s going on, if you want to come.”

Diggle covered his mouth and breathed out hard. Of all the things he might have expected Oliver to tell him, this was certainly at the very bottom of the list. “I mean, it would explain some things,” Diggle mused out loud. Oliver jostled him with his shoulder. 

“If it turns out I am pregnant, what are we going to do?”

“This is not exactly a situation anyone ever has had to deal with Oliver, so I’m not really sure.”

Oliver waited a beat. “Are we... are you... ready for a baby if that’s what it comes to?”

Diggle glanced at Oliver with a small smile playing at his lips. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy with where this story ends, but I am considering drawing it into a longer work covering the during and post-pregnancy aspect of the story. Feedback is warmly accepted.


End file.
